


You're Safe Here

by Dancerlittle



Series: Life In the ER [4]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Comfort, F/M, M/M, Multi, Nurse Spot, Really Bad Day at Work, soft spot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancerlittle/pseuds/Dancerlittle
Summary: Spot reflects on a bad day at work
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Life In the ER [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092449
Kudos: 18





	You're Safe Here

**There’s some cursing in here along with mentions of drinking. We check in on Nurse Spot in this one.**

**February 9, 2020 4:50pm**

He received a cryptic text from Kat a few minutes before Spot walked through the door. She warned him that it was a tough day at the hospital. Race immediately was on edge when there was no “honey I’m home” like usual. He heard the door shut with a loud sigh. Race wished he was a bit more prepared but he had been in this situation plenty of times over the past three years. 

Race waited in the kitchen, knowing that Spot had a routine on the tough days. He stirred the pasta sauce and noodles on the stove, listening to any indication of Spot getting through his routine. He would normally take a shower, get on his most comfortable sweats (an old pair from his college days), eat some food, then cuddle Race on the couch for the remainder of the night. 

He reached into the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer, cracking both of them putting them on the counter for when Spot joined him. He heard him before he saw him, as the bathroom door opened and Sassie went to greet him. Race glanced up, watching Spot drop to the ground and rub Sassie vigorously. 

He looked away, pouring the sauce into the drained pasta, stirring everything together, putting it in the middle of the kitchen table along with the garlic bread. He grabbed two plates and the beer bottles before going to sit at the table. Spot soon joined him with a forced smile on his face. 

Without a word, Race put pasta on each of their plates along with two pieces of garlic bread. They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Dinner was quickly finished, extra food put away and they ended up curled up in their bed, Spot’s head against Race’s chest. 

The tears started as soon as Race was comfortable. All he could do was run his hand through Spot’s hair, whispering comforting sounds and hums. Race felt so hopeless and scared when Spot got into this situation but he knew, eventually, Spot would talk with him, pull him in and tell him what had happened. 

The heart wrenching sobs calmed, Spot’s breath erratic and unsteady. “Shh . . . you’re safe here, I got you, Spottie. You’re alright.” 

He rubbed his hand up and down through his back, pressing kisses to Spot’s forehead, humming lightly. “I love you, Spottie. I’ve got you.” 

“Love you too.” Spot whispered, nestling his head on Race’s chest. 

Pressing a kiss to his head, Race sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was awful, Race.” Spot sighed, shaking his head, his breath hitched. “A kid died on our watch today, Race. He was just a kid.” 

Race sighed loudly, knowing that was the worst part of Spot’s job. And all Race could do was be there for him. “I’m so sorry, Spottie. I’m so sorry.” 

Clearing his throat, Spot nodded. “There was a house fire. Little boy was brought in with his entire family - mom, dad, and two sisters. His trachea was filled with smoke inhalation and trachea was burned. He didn’t even have a chance. We tried to do everything we could but he was too far gone. I couldn’t do anything. Plums was right there with me and we just couldn’t do anything.” 

Tears flowed from his eyes as he finished his last statement. “He was someone’s son. He was someone’s child, Racer. And I - I couldn’t save him.” 

“Shhh . . . I wish I could take your pain away, Spot. I wish there’s something more I could do.” There were a few tears that had escaped Race’s eyes as he spoke softly. “Wish there was more to do for you, Spottie.” 

“You’re doing it, Race.” Spot tilted his head, pressing his lips to Race’s cheek. “Just keep holding me and doing whatever you’re doing. You’re helping.”

Pressing a kiss to his head, Race sighed. “I love you Spottie.” 

“Love you too Race.” 

The tough days were always the worst but Race would be there with food, beer, and a good cuddle at the end of the day until Spot was feeling better. Holding Spot a bit tighter, Race relaxed feeling Spot sighed on his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be wonderful


End file.
